


All I Want

by coffeexwhiskey



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Depression, F/M, Friendship, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley - Freeform, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley - Freeform, Hurt, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, One Shot, Post Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 14:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20244514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeexwhiskey/pseuds/coffeexwhiskey
Summary: What do you do when the person you love, leaves you?





	All I Want

“Are you sure you’re not coming, mate?” Harry asked for the third time that night to make sure.

“Nah. I’m good, had a busy week. I kinda need the rest. Just look after Ginny,” he waved him off with his lie, showing how tired he is which was not hard to do because he always looked tired.

Harry nodded and patted him on his shoulder, “I always do. Get some sleep,” he was about to leave but stopped and turned is head before Ron could close the door, “Just so you know, you can’t lie to me. I know you too well Ron.”

He knew that face Harry made as he said that, the sorry look. With a small nod, Ron closed the door.

It has always been this way for the past two years. He’d go to work everyday, successfully complete his missions, get home, drink a couple firewhiskey or butterbeer depending on his mood, weekends spent in his little flat; declining lunch invitations from Harry and Ginny or George and Bill, visits his parents for Sunday dinner and that’s that.

Some of his fellow Aurors could convince him to go to the pub near the ministry, but it wouldn’t take long before he’d bid them goodbye making different excuses from time to time.

But tonight, tonight was different. Harry knew it. Ginny knew it. He knew it.

September 19.

He sat at the edge of his bed thinking what she could possibly be doing right now to celebrate her birthday. _She’s probably partying with her workmates or if I’ve known better, having dinner with her boyfriend with a book as a present._

He knew he sounded bitter but it was too usual for him to think this way that he just thought of it as something normal for someone like him. _Someone who’s girlfriend left him to fly half-across the world._

He rubbed his hands to his face, feeling the roughness of his palms run through his cheeks and scrunched his red hair and pulled hard. He lied on his back with a thud, hand still on his hair. _What the bloody hell have I been doing with my life? What have you done to me?_

Deciding that this was not how he wanted to spend his night, he stood up abruptly and headed to his modest kitchen, opened the cupboard, took a bottle out, opened it, not even bothering to take a glass, and emptied the bottle in one go. _I’m going mad._

With the alcohol kicking its effects on him, he’s now determined to do what he’s wanted to do for the last couple of years. He went to his bedroom, not forgetting to take a fresh bottle with him. Opening the drawer from his side table, he took some parchment and quill, positioned himself comfortably by the headboard and started writing.

_It has been 2 years, 8 months, 3 weeks and 2 days since I’ve last seen you, Hermione. Everday there’s nothing more I want but to see you, standing outside my door, knocking and calling my name. Is that so much to ask? To have you back here with me? To see your face again? To hear your voice? To feel your touch? To be at least feel your presence? If only I could see you once more, it’ll be enough. I could die happily knowing you’re alright and you still love me, because that’s what I thought._

_You reminded me everyday how much you love me. Or loved? Because if you do, then why’d you leave me, Hermione? Why did you choose to work so damn far away and leave us all behind?_

“It’s a new assignment Ron,” she reminded him.

“Why does it have to be so far away? Why couldn’t it be in Ireland or somewhere near here?” he was walking back and forth in their bedroom, feeling more and more frustrated every second.

“Because they needed more people in that country. There’s no one else willing to work there-“

“THEN WHY DO YOU WANT TO WORK IN THAT BLOODY COUNTRY?” he interrupted before she could finish.

She too was getting frustrated having explained this to him for the third time that week. She doesn’t have time for this. She’ll be leaving in a few days and she still hasn’t started packing yet.

“Don’t swear at me Ronald,” she said sternly. “They need someone like me, someone who already has knowledge about this and willing to do more research. The number of creatures are depleting, and I can’t just sit in my office knowing that day by day there are creatures dying and being mistreated because no one dares and cares to protect them because they’re scared of making laws that they think will make them less of a witch or wizard!” now she was screaming, standing up from their bed. “I’m not like them Ron and you know it.”

She walked towards him who was now leaning his back on the wall by their bedroom door. She stood in front of him, cupped his face on her hands, searching for her favourite blue eyes.

“I love you. I’ll always love you. But I can’t. I can’t do a long distance relationship Ron,” the tears pooling in her eyes streamed down warmly on her face. “I love you and I love my job-“

“But you love your job more!” he shoved her hands away from him and walked across the room. Without missing a beat, she followed him. “You’re taking a risky job, half-across the world and you think I can just simply support you and let you be? Do you think I don’t care? Do you think I wouldn’t die everyday thinking if you’re alright or if you’ve been hurt?” he scowled at her, there were tears too on his face.

He’s angry. She’s angry.

He’s scared. She’s scared.

He’s hurt. She’s hurt.

He’s sorry. She’s sorry.

After a few minutes of silence, she finally walked closer to him. Not daring to look him in the eyes this time, “I’ll write to you, everyday.”

“You don’t have to.” He glowered, took his coat that was discarded on the chair and headed to the door.

“Here are you going?” she followed after him, worry written all over her face.

“I don’t know,” he didn’t stop.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know where I’m going, alright Hermione?” he turned to face her with a scowl; she almost bumped her face on his chest. “I can’t just sit here and watch you walk away from me. Not when you keep on telling me that you love me but chose to leave me.”

“Ron,” as she sobbed, he died a little bit inside seeing how difficult this is for her too.

He took a step closer, and for the last time, placed a chased kiss on her lips- full of love, sorrow and regret.

“Take care of yourself,” and with that, he left her crying in the doorway, crying for him. He left her, as he died inside, if it’s possible to die even more.

_Maybe it was me who left you. I was the one who left you. Maybe it was my fault. That’s what’s been running through my mind. That’s what’s been keeping me from writing to you. From following you. Maybe if you’d ask me if I wanted to come with you, I might have said yes but you never did. Maybe you could have taken me with you. Because I feel sorry that I left you that night. I even believed those people who said that we were meant to be. That what we’ve been through together was a story worth making into a book. Well maybe we weren’t meant for each other. And maybe they were wrong._

_I’ll find someone new. I think I will. That is if I can leave this bed anytime soon. But it’s been so difficult, because you’re the only person who knows me, the real me. You know that I like my tea without sugar but only milk. You know the way I want my sandwiches. You know I want to watch my quidditch games with butterbeer. You know I can’t put my dirty clothes in the bin so you remind me every day. You know that I leave toothpaste on my toothbrush so you clean them for me. You know that whenever I feel nervous about a new mission all I want is your soothing words to calm me. You know that I love to watch you in your sleep, though it annoys you. You know that whenever I think of my brother, the only thing I want is for you to hold me. I even think you know me better than I know myself. _

_ But I couldn’t help it, Hermione. I couldn’t help to cry your name at night as I lay here. I couldn’t help missing you more and more every day. What’s worse is I couldn’t stop myself from hoping and wishing you’d come back. But it has been years and I haven’t heard from you. None of us have. And not knowing anything makes it more difficult, lonelier. I die every day thinking about you. When you left, you took a part of me with you. And I don’t think that part of me will ever be built again. Not when it’s not you, because I still love you._

_But I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re happy now. _

As he wrote the last line of his letter, he took a last swig of whatever’s left of his second bottle of firewhiskey. _I’ll just burn this tomorrow, or whenever I can remember that I actually wrote something for her._

He couldn’t dare to read it. And so, he folded the parchment and placed it on his bedside table along with the other parchments lying around and forced himself to sleep just like he always does.

A bang on his front door made him groan and woke up to his senses. He rubbed his head as he felt the pulse of his blood running thru his veins and the dizziness took over him, not to mention the headache.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” he screamed. He was aware that whoever was in his door did not hear him because the banging didn’t stop.

Forcing himself to stand up, he shuffled towards the front door not even taking a second to check himself in the mirror.

It’s Harry.

“You smell like shite!”

“Good morning to you too, mate,” he walked back into his living room, leaving the door open for Harry to enter.

“Let me guess, you had a good drinking night all to yourself last night…..Again,” Harry gave him a knowing look as he sat on the armchair across him.

This scene’s very familiar to Harry, having seen it a more than a handful of time since the other one third of their trio left.

“Git,” Ron mumbled.

“This git happens to care about you. So go get ready because they need us at the ministry in fifteen,” Harry said with authority.

With a grunt, he stood from his seat still rubbing his head and walked to his bedroom.

“I don’t forget the approval letter I asked you to write three weeks ago!” Harry added and he heard a bang as the door closes.

Twenty-five minute later, Ron walked out of his room and found the living room empty and saw Harry on his kitchen table playing with his wand, making blue flashes run circles on the table. He threw the parchment to him and walked to the fridge to get a glass of water.

“Oh! You’re done already?” Harry said, sarcastically.

Five minutes later, they were finally in the ministry. After attending their briefing with the head of the Auror Department, they relaxed themselves in their respective cubicles as they waited for further instructions.

Ron took the time to head to the nearest bakery to get some breakfast and stopped by Harry’s cubicle to ask him if he wanted something.

“Scones please,” was all he said as he went through the approval letter that Rod handed to him earlier that morning.

To Harry’s surprise, it wasn’t the letter he was asking for. It was a letter addressed to Hermione. Contemplating if he should continue reading, thinking that it was a personal matter; he thought for a second but continued reading anyway. _I might understand him better through this letter. I mean, he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. And I might be able to help._

After reading the letter, Harry couldn’t help but feel sorry for his friend. He thought about the last time he talked to Hermione.

_ “If there’s anything, anything at all especially about Ron, write to me Harry,” Hermione looked at him intently. _

_He nodded._

_“Promise me.”_

_“I promise.”_

And this was it. This was the “anything” that Hermione meant.

His second biggest decision for that morning took more time for him to think about. When he saw Ron walk towards him and dropped his scones without a word and looking dead as ever, he had finally made a decision.

He took an envelope, and wrote on the back,

_I think you should read this. Please come back, for him._

_Harry._

He carefully placed the parchment inside, sealed it and called for an owl.

Rod had a long week. Literally. He spent most of his time outside trying to catch of whatever’s left of the Death Eaters and would only head back to his flat to sleep and shower. It was Saturday, though he had to successfully complete his latest mission; and he did.

Rubbing the back of his aching neck, he dropped his work bag on the kitchen floor and searched through the cupboard.

_One last. I need to go buy more._

He sat on the kitchen counter with the last bottle of alcohol he had and thought of the last accomplishment he performed.

As he drowned the last of his firewhiskey, he heard a knock on his door making him choke back the dark liquid.

“The hell,” he said to himself.

With the now empty bottle still in his hand, he lazy walked to the entryway and opened the front door.

And for the past 2 years, 8 months, 4 weeks and 3 days, he has never felt so alive.

**Author's Note:**

> First Harry Potter Fic! What do you think?  
Hope you enjoyed that.  
Find me on tumblr: coffeexwhiskey


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